Slow Dance With Destiny
by Kimiel
Summary: Soon after the gypsy camp massacre, the Huntsman finds himself engaged in his own battle for survival in the Disenchanted Forest.


Slow Dance With Destiny

The arrow felt warm as I pulled it from the dead boy's chest. Something in the scene called back a memory, but my mind pushed it quickly away. I felt no remorse; I had plucked out the arrow the same as a lover would have plucked a flower for his beloved. My devotion, however, lay in another direction -- not in the weakness of love, but in the strength of service to an irresistible power.

Holding the arrow for a moment, I felt the energy that flowed through it. It was as if the life force from the heart of my victim had passed into the metal and restored the magic it had spent while soaring through the air to find its mark. I wiped the blood off on my sleeve before returning the arrow to the quiver. Its journey had come full circle, and it was ready for its next fateful encounter.

I looked around at the gypsy camp, so lately filled with life and activity, now strewn with the bodies of the dead. Miserable poachers; the forest was better off without them. They'd probably gone about their meaningless tasks that morning not knowing how little time was left for them. If the old crone who had led them had been a better fortune teller, perhaps they'd have been prepared for my attack. I chuckled inwardly at the irony of it. Then again, there was no known incantation to protect against the magic of my crossbow.

Suddenly, I heard a crashing noise from one of the caravans behind me and I spun around to face it, raising my bow. I saw no movement, and all was silent again, so I made my way toward the caravan, weapon at the ready. The door was open, but I could see nothing in the shadows inside; I placed one foot on the wooden step and it creaked slightly. A long, low growl came from the darkness.

I took my foot off the step and walked backwards, being careful not to stumble over bodies and rubble, until I was about twenty paces from the door. I knelt down, bow in one hand, and picked up a large stone which I threw high into the air above the caravan. Quickly, I raised my bow and aimed it at the entrance, just before the stone landed with a loud bang on the roof.

Almost instantly, a snarling, dark blur hurtled from the caravan, so fast and furious that I could not tell what kind of animal it was. I soon recovered from my surprise and fired my arrow, but by then the creature was upon me, coming up beneath my bow and knocking me out from under my hat. I briefly glimpsed the arrow flying up through the trees before I was flung over onto my face in the dirt, the bow thrown from my grip. Something heavy landed on my back, pinning me down. I turned my head and saw what looked like a human hand, but covered in fur and with long sharp claws, clutching tightly onto my arm.

Before I had a chance to struggle, I felt myself free of the painful grip. With a grunt, the brute had jumped from my back and shot off into the undergrowth. In one swift movement I rolled over, retrieved my weapon and leapt to my feet. Rapidly fitting the bow with a new arrow, I aimed it in the direction the beast had gone. "Foolish little pet," I muttered under my breath as I prepared to pull the trigger.

Something glinted in the tree tops above me. I glanced up, and I knew then why the creature had run.

It was the first arrow. Coming toward me.

I dropped my bow and ran for my life through the forest. I ran through brambles and branches that became like the bony fingers of the old gypsy woman, grasping at me, holding me back to meet the arrow that was now my enemy. Then I heard a voice whisper, "He is for me..."

A strange sensation came over me, and for all my urgency I felt my pace become sluggish. Each moment seemed to lengthen, stretching toward eternity, and I could see everything around me with great clarity -- the green leaves, gnarled tree trunks, the motes swirling like fairy dust in the hazy sunlight that filtered through the thick woods. I could dimly feel my legs and arms moving, but my feet did not seem to touch the ground; the crashing sounds of my flight faded and I was enveloped in a peaceful silence. All tension left me. Emotionless, I wondered when I could expect the arrow to enter my back, and how it would feel...would the pain be short and sharp, like the sting of a bee, or dull and searing like a burn? Or would I feel nothing, just slip instantly into darkness, a candle snuffing out? I wondered if I should turn and face the arrow, and embrace my fate with open arms. I appeared to have all the time in the world to ponder these questions.

Up ahead I saw a large butterfly, the color of the sky in winter, and a curious sight in this place where few flowers grew. I could see each beat of its wings as it flew slowly across my path. Without thinking, I pushed off from the ground, soared through the air, and watched the forest floor come up to meet me....

-------------------------------------------

My eyes opened, and I felt as if I were waking from a dream. The sights and sounds of the forest were as before, and I realized that I had landed on a bed of fallen pine needles.

Rising to my feet, my muscles aching, I found myself standing next to an enormous fir tree. Its trunk was pierced by the arrow -- a silver pin holding the latest prize in my collection, the pale blue butterfly whose wings now only fluttered in the light breeze. A missive of salvation sent by a regal hand.

Exhilaration filled me then, and had it been in my nature, I would have laughed out loud.

I am the Queen's Huntsman, by her grace and for her glory, invincible.


End file.
